"Songs from Labyrinth" will turn out to be the biggest Christmas CD of the year . . . It¿s going to become a perennial . . . Sting¿s vocal is superbly rich and humorous . . .

Record Review /
ROGER FRIEDMAN,
Fox 411 / 01. September 2006

Sting's self-confessedly "rough tenor" makes for an intimate performance. He plays up with gusto to the invitation offered by "hellish jarring sounds" in "In Darkness Let Me Dwell".

Record Review /
David Honigmann,
Financial Times (London) / 27. September 2006

There is much to admire in his [Sting¿s] approach ¿ a keen feel for language, an acute musical intelligence and an absence of the plummy Foreign Office accent and reedy pitch that turns most formal Dowland recitals into diplomatic ordeals. Above all, the sympathy between singer and song is vivid and pronounced.

. . . 15 songs by Dowland are delivered with an urgency not often found on recordings of early music . . . imagine vivid, romantic, often melancholy folk music with Mr. Karamazov's rich, ringing lute instead of an acoustic guitar.

Sting's readings are well considered and evocative; an equally careful attention to the song texts evinces a willingness to give into the prevailing affect while still in contemporary mode, the decision to treat the songs as pop material resulting in a rawness and emotional energy that's often lacking in more polished performances. The four-part realisations of some verses (Sting's voice here multi-tracked) results in an appropriately surreal effect, much like looking at one's reflection in a broken mirror, while Karmazov's dazzling lute playing (the two Fantasies on this recording are spectacular) is suitably brash and improvisatory, providing the perfect complement to Sting's "unschooled tenor" . . . he and Karamazov manage to bring Dowland before the listener as a living, breathing person in a way more orthodox recordings often fail to do. The success of this enterprise almost defies logic -- it's like one of those Buddhist koans that confounds the mind in order to reach the truth.

His vocal timbre and demeanour and the tenor of his songs have a lugubrious tendency matching the mood of Dowland's best-known work . . . there is merit in the more intimate approach he adopts and he evidently understands the songs musically as well as lyrically. On three tracks he plays some respectable lute and occasionally uses overdubbing to achieve polyphony. A worthy venture . . .

One of the pleasures of this CD, often missing from classical vocal recitals of any repertoire, is Sting's commitment and affection for the music and his ability to get inside it and make it his own. Sting thinks theatrically, and his consideration for the flow and connection of pieces turns the disc into an emotional journey as well as a psychological portrait . . . Here, Karamazov fashions accompaniments that enhance Sting's vocal strong points and offers some instrumental solos of his own . . . Sting brings a breathy intimacy to the readings and improvises some atmospheric lute backgrounds. The personal snippets of Dowland's rocky life and career link imaginatively with the musical numbers and enhance the introspective tone of some of the composer's bleakest songs . . . One of the most difficult songs, "In darkness let me dwell", finds him melding voice, emotion, atmosphere and pacing in a convincing and deeply moving performance of Dowland's masterpiece. Sting's natural ability with the English language is a real plus and ought to inspire classical artists, who often regard lute songs as museum pieces. His warm, intimate version of Robert Johnson's "Have you seen the bright lily grow" (the single departure from Dowland on the CD) is one of the finest on disc because of the sincerity of expression and mood. He brings delightful verve and lilt to "Clear or cloudy" and "Come again", and great energy to all four voice parts of "Fine knacks for ladies". The lure of Dowland's music and life led Sting into the labyrinth; his sincerity and charisma provide the ideal guide there and back.

. . . I have greatly enjoyed Sting's Dowland disc. He's got a lovely, flexible voice which is very touching. And while he can occasionally be rather free with the structures and shapes of the songs, what he does is actually very respectful. It comes across beautifully.

Perfect fitSting, an artist who values text and its immediacy, offers a compelling recital of lute songs by John Dowland and Robert Johnson.One of the pleasures of this CD . . . is Sting's commitment and affection for the music and his ability to get inside it and make it his own. Sting thinks theatrically, and his consideration for the flow and connection of pieces turns the disc into an emotional journey as well as a psychological portrait . . . Sting brings a breathy intimacy to the readings and improvises some atmospheric lute backgrounds . . . One of the most difficult songs, "In darkness let me dwell", finds him melding voice, emotion, atmosphere and pacing in a convincing and deeply moving performances of Dowland's masterpiece. Sting's natural ability with the English language is a real plus and ought to inspire classical artists, who often regard lute songs as museum pieces. His warm, intimate version of Robert Johnson's "Have you seen the bright lily grow" (the single departure from Dowland on the CD) is one of the finest on disc because of the sincerity of expression and mood. He brings delightful verve and lilt to "Clear or cloudy" and "Come again", and great energy to all four voice parts of "Fine knacks for ladies". The lure of Dowland's music and life led Sting into the labyrinth; his sincerity and charisma provide the ideal guide there and back.

Fans of the singer will find that his voice shines anywhere . . . If you happen to be an early music enthusiast, you'll cheer for the accompanying performance by lute master Edin Karamazov. If you are merely a Sting fan, you will be pleasantly surprised to discover that the singer's familiar, elegant voice still works its magic on your mind and soul, no matter the material or era. Put simply, Sting is one of those stars who could perform the phone book and the world would be a better place for it.

400 years separate Sting and John Dowland, and yet the bassist with the distinctive voice and the 17th-century lute virtuoso are kindred souls. The parallels are striking: grand songs, impressive ballads, each artist already immortal in his own lifetime. Now one legend creates a monument to the other. Sting¿s new album Songs from the Labyrinth is not only the soundtrack to Dowland¿s life ¿ it¿s also an encounter between two genuine pop stars. Dowland¿s songs are of timeless beauty and full of emotion. They have lost nothing of their appeal and ¿ thanks to Sting ¿ sound as fresh as if they had been written not 400 years ago but yesterday.

[A] letter in which the composer speaks of his eventful life of wandering and his difficulties with the English court serves as a connecting thread in this dramaturgically clever programme lasting three-quarters of an hour that ends with the great, ground-breaking song In Darkness Let Me Dwell . . . [Sting¿s] approach is fascinating: not a market-driven crossover project, but a serious and internally consistent interpretation. He articulates so that one can understand every word.

. . . one listens to [Sting] with pleasure, for hours on end . . . Karamazov is one of the day¿s greatest players of his instrument. His virtuosic, colourful lute solos on this album are islands of delight.

Now with lutenist Edin Karamazov . . . he has created refreshingly new interpretations of some of [Dowland¿s] most beautiful songs. Sting treats these sometimes melancholy, sometimes joyful Renaissance pieces like pop songs from 1600 and in the process gets closer to Dowland than many trained concert singers.

Sting is of course one of those artists who must be taken seriously. To confine him to pop music would therefore be ridiculous. . . . The unpretentious songs The lowest trees and Come again are totally suited to Sting; here he can best display his charisma.

It¿s impossible not to picture an imaginary vibro-lute when listening to Edin Karamazov plucking Walsingham on the threshold of this dreamy ¿Labyrinth¿, or not to view in this voyage by Sting among his distant forebears ¿something new for the decadent¿ . . . The ¿hellish jarring sounds¿ and the cries for death of In Darkness Let Me Dwell are those of an interpreter who is inside this music. Divine gems like Can she excuse my wrongs? and Come again resemble fruit on a tree: spontaneous, juicy, to be savoured recklessly . . . All the essentials are there: a calm and beautiful nature, modesty without meanness, an innocence far removed from what our ¿divas¿ ordinarily inflict on early music.

The disc is a subtly laid-out journey . . . and sounds all of a piece . . . Singing with painstaking care, Sting never seeks to pit his vocal means against those of his friend Pavarotti. The poetry of this album derives from the pop artist¿s meticulous rendering of Dowland¿s text and the unaffected honesty with which he slips into this early songwriter¿s footsteps.